“Baby,” he said, almost a whisper, “say something, please.”
I looked down at our hands resting between us, then slowly reached for his. He held mine carefully, his thumb tracing lazy circles on my skin. I stared at his hand, then up into his eyes.
“Asher…” I whispered, unsure. “Tama ba 'to?”
Because I wanted this too. God, I wanted this. But I didn’t know if it was right to want him like this. Not when I’d spent so long guarding myself, pretending I didn’t care.
“Of course,” he replied, his voice steady and sure. “If you're worried about your privacy, let's date in secret. I don’t care about fame. I care about you.”
Parang may kung anong lumuwag sa dibdib ko. He wasn’t just saying it for the show. He meant it.
I breathed, still trying to catch up with everything he just said. My wall
